Jaehaera: Mummy There’s A Monster Under My Bed

How do you think Baldwin would react if reader got into a heated argument with someone to the point it was getting really bad?

King Baldwin x reader - Defending your honor

A/N: eheheh I see you guys really yearn to see Baldwin losing his temper, huh?

I can't lie I've been thinking of a similar scenario too lately, I guess you can't help it when he's so perfect in every way, shape or form🙈

Painting is "Orestes pursued by the Furies" by Adolphe William Bouguereau btw :))

Warning: mention of disrespect towards reader but nothing is actually specified!

He's intervening right away

He's got the wits to shut anyone's mouth, and he isn't afraid to embarrass whoever it is that is disrespecting his perfect wife

Whether it's a snide remark, a direct insult or an order for them to shut their mouths if they don't want any consequences for their outrageous behavior

If it got really really bad, like you said, I can actually see him lose his temper

Maybe the person arguing with you took it too far by directly insulting or belittling you, and that would cross the line for him

He'd jump up from his seat, pushing his chair down to the floor in the act, while looking dead in the eye unfortunate fool who dared to disrespect her highness the queen of Jerusalem

"If you dare to speak to your queen in such a tone again, your tongue will be your next meal!"

Everyone is shocked. You are shocked, his knights are shocked, your own rival is shocked (and mostly terrified)

Baldwin is a bit surprised with his own rush of wrath, too, but he doesn't give any hint of his surprise

While his servants waste no time putting his chair back in place, he keeps standing menacingly, eyeing the culprit of such blasphemy against his wife

After a few apologies from the person, Baldwin would hiss through gritted teeth: "It is the queen you have to apologize to, you miserable"

And that tone somehow manages to be even more threatening than his previous yelling, maybe because everyone knew that in that moment he was in his right state of mind, and that he was able to make whatever decision he wanted to punish the man before him, without ever regretting it

He wouldn't calm down until you give him a sign that everything's alright, then he'd drop the subject but it would still cling to him for the rest of the day

He loves you more than words can express, and he will never, ever be able to just stand silently there and observe someone disrespect you like that

 Leo Valdez x Child of Aphrodite!reader

A/N: I haven’t got much to say this time, just a reminder that requests are open and will remain this way for some weeks at the very least:))

Warning: absolutely none (maybe some swearing? But like, two bad words), just pure fluff. Also, reader uses female pronouns

It was kind of against your destiny to fall in love: Aphrodite is bound to never return Hephaestus’ love, so that they’re stuck in a loveless marriage. With the two of you, it’s the total opposite

The exact same MOMENT you see the boy in camp, disheveled look, face covered in machine oil and dust, you’re, absolutely smitten

It’s the classical “she fell first, he fell harder” type of trope

He notices you pretty early on too, but he doesn’t even try to approach you at first

I mean, no way that the prettiest child of Aphrodite could ever even look into his direction, you’re wayyyy over his league

It takes Piper’s help to start things up, when she accidentally stumbles upon Leo while she was taking a walk around camp. “Oh how rude of me. Y/N, this is my best friend, Leo”

It would be embarrassing to write down just how much he’s stumbled on his words the first time the two of you talked, just because of how he was absolutely captured by your godly beauty

He comes to find that you’re also a lot more than you’re looks: you’re funny, smart, clever, strong as fuck, and one of the best friends Leo has ever known

It doesn’t take long for him to realize that he’s completely and irrevocably in love with you, but oh boy how long does it take him to confess it to you

He had prepared this big, fancy plan to take you by the beach, with candles all around, a circle of rose petals and in the center of it a picnic filled with all of your favorite foods waiting to be devoured

Too bad he didn’t check the weather that morning, or he would’ve seen that a storm was expected right on that evening. He might’ve asked for Percy’s or Jason’s help too, maybe they could’ve done some big-god shit to prevent the rain

Nevertheless, you both found yourself soaked wet, standing by a line of extinguished candles, the petals long gone with the wind, and the food watered down to a soup

He wanted to drown himself in the sea right then and there, but he was quickly stopped by your laugh coming from behind him

Oh gods, where you making fun of him? Did you figure out what his intentions were? It must’ve been it, I mean, how could you ever want to have anything to do with him other than simple friendship, he’s been so stupid so reckles-

His track of thoughts was interrupted by your hands grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him in for a loving kiss, your skilled lips so soft and comforting against his much inexperienced ones

“You could’ve just told me you liked me at Camp, you know.”

“Wait, was it that simple?”

You laughed again shaking your head at his cluelessness, and he swore the sound of your laugh could’ve been the only thing he needed to live from that moment on

Okay no maybe food too, but you get the idea

You spend most of the time chilling in cabin 9 while he works on his projects, chilling in his bed or peaking at what he was doing

He definitely calls you dove for obvious reasons

Best believe that as soon as you guys are a thing all his flirting with every girl that moves is OVER my boy does not come from the streets he’s a loyal mf

After the curfew you usually sneak out to chill in some secluded area in the forest, and cuddle for hours in the moonlight

And whenever it rains, you waste no time to go at the beach and dance in the rain, reminiscing about the day you two got together

Oh, and get ready to see Leo as an emotional wreck anytime one of you is on a quest, when he’s unable to text you or hear anything from you for days or even WEEKS

He’s sure that’s worse than Prometheus’ destiny

Overall it’s like a golden retriever - siamese cat relationship, 10/10 would recommend

NOT A REQUEST BUT HEAR ME OUT, THIS IS PURE BRAINROT

Having Baldwin with someone who's a knight, his face is pretty much as bad or even worse condition compared to the king himself so he covers it with his helmet. Idk i just keep imagining my knight OC carrying Baldwin around when the leprosy is acting up

Ohhh that's a nice concept!!

I'd like to think that having to grow up with leprosy and coming to terms with the damage it had caused him, Baldwin would be used to looking at people beyond their physical appearance.

It would honestly be an amazing dynamic, or at least I think so since I'm honestly a sicker for that knight + noble romantic trope.

Feel free to text me about your scenarios and your OC in the future, I'd love to hear more of your ideas💗💗

Hello! I simply adore your writing!! It’s so sweet and the way you write about love is so captivating and beautiful! If you are able to take requests, I would like to make one! Please do not feel pressured to take it if you are busy, take care of yourself first and foremost!

This may be a slightly longer ask, so I do apologise for that! I’ve recently fallen into the Kingdom of Heaven rabbit hole and I do not see a way out, and this is purely going to be a self-indulgent ask based on a rather strange medieval themed dream I had.

Once again, please do not feel pressured to take this request! If you just want to enjoy reading this snippet of an idea, please do so! And I hope your day has been wonderful!

☀️ Strange dream anon

-

The newlywed wife of Baldwin, who is rather quiet and shy at first, the daughter of a lord or a king from a distant country (completely up to you on this one! It wasn’t clear in my dream), who has been taught how to wield a sword and is quite proficient with a weapon in hand after her father realised he would not be able to protect her his entire life, and defence against a weapon is a skill that she would need in a land foreign from her own.

It is a mere handful of months after the marriage that Baldwin has to leave the castle for a matter regarding politics that would take at least three weeks, if not more due to travel. While he is away, the new queen is left without a large number of the knights, who have gone with their king and thus, the palace is very still and quiet. There are of course enough men about that she would be safe, but it is still has a starkly different aura to when it is filled with people.

It is during this time that a group of assassins sneak into the castle at the dead of night, their intent is to murder the queen and her guards to leave a message for Baldwin that no matter how hard he tries, he would never be capable of defending his people (especially those closest to him). A tactic, to weaken him and make certain his enemies and subjects know he is a weak king.

They do not expect however, that the queen whom they’re attempting to kill can wield a sword in each hand and has been prepared to fight to the death from the moment a sword was placed into her hands years ago.

(In my dream I saw the queen silently running through the hallways knocking out the assassins, hiding in the shadows to strike, climbing out a window to get to a higher level of the castle, it was both awesome and rather funny). She gets the rest of the guards to help her, and together they manage to subdue most of the attackers.

Baldwin returns home the next day, exhausted and drained from the travel and stress, he simply wants to spend some time with his wife to forget about the world around him for just a moment, yet when he enters through the gates one of the guards informs him of the attempted assassination on the queen.

Imagine the surprise he felt when enters the castle to see half of the assassins knocked out, and the other half gagged and tied up, ready to be questioned.

And his wife? The worst of her injuries is a bloodied nose that stopped bleeding hours before he had arrived.

-

I’m not certain how to end it, my dream unfortunately stopped here, however I imagine there would probably be a rather sweet ending, Baldwin fretting over his wife after learning from the guards what she did, and his wife becoming more open with him, a much more relaxed and bubbly version of her coming out of her shell.

Thank you for reading!!

Hi anon, thank you so much for sharing your story! I myself find a lot of inspiration in my own dreams, so I'm glad to hear I'm not the only one lol.

As of now, I've been taking a break from writing, but your story is so interesting!! I might just save it up in my drafts for when I start writing again.

I honestly looove the idea of a strong and independent Queen to rule beside Baldwin, he just seems like the type of man to appreciate having such a woman by his side.

Also, thank you so much for your sweet words, it really means a lot more than you can imagine to hear them (or better read them)🫶🫶

Feel more than welcome to share other ideas in the future, I'll be more than happy to read them and eventually save them up in my drafts for the future!!

i know you said rock would be on thin ice for king baldwin but consider: do you think he'd like christian emo (flyleaf, relient k)? maybe im biased bc im a huge flyleaf fan but idk i think he'd appreciate it

Omg you made me discover a world! You're right he'd probably enjoy listening to it.

As I mentioned on the original post, it's the content of the lyrics that mostly interests him, and also the factor that decides whether he likes a song or not.

Peaceful, loving themes always win for him, and he'd probably be open to the new kind of melody also because it's not as artificial as other subgenres of rock/metal/goth/...

So yeah anon you two could listen to flyleaf together and it'd be enjoyable for you both!! (can I join too you literally made me fall in love with their music)

Would Baldwin Iv be jealous if the reader was hanging out with someone he didnt really like?

King Baldwin IV - Untrusting jealousy

A/N: We're so back!! I'm so sorry for my long ahh hiatus but now that school is painfully slowly coming to an end, I figured it'd be the best time to catch up on all the unfinished projects and requests I've gathered in these past months. Also, I'm taking the chance to announce that I've updated my masterlist to add all the new fandoms I'm willing to write for, so go check on it if you're interested in commissioning any new works :))

Also the painting is "Stańczyk" by the Polish painter Jan Matejko

Warnings: none, jealousy, maybe? reader is gn

I really can't see him as the type of man to actually show any sort of jealousy

In this situation, I'd say he would act in a more "cautious" sort of way

If he didn't like someone, knowing his character, it would be because of something that makes them outright unworthy of his trust

He isn't the irrational type, so while his reasons to dislike this third party will surely be well founded, he isn't going to stop you from hanging out with them

He would totally warn you, of course. Assuming you were together, you'd be his partner and most trusted person in his life. Your safety would be his priority, so of course he'd want you to at least make informed decisions

That being said, if things were to escalate towards something he deemed potentially dangerous, I can see him acting out on it more. Still, nothing exaggerated or outwardly jealous, but he'd definitely pull you to the side and talk to you about these worries of his

In the end, it all really boils down to his desire to shield you from danger's way. Baldwin isn't the jealous type, it's simply not part of who he is

MASTERLIST

Kingdom of Heaven:

King Baldwin IV:

Life always comes down to a game of chess

I’ll be waiting for you

Sweetest of melodies

My archangel - coming soon!

Bandit - coming soon!

Voice of Heaven - coming soon!

Like Lancelot - coming soon!

Headcanons:

Arguing with you

Sickness

Period

Defending your honor

Nsfw

Cats or dogs?

Modern headcanons: modern music, pt 2, pt 3, reaction to immodest clothing, modern style, chips and drinks, anime

Percy Jackson and the Olympians:

Luke Castellan:

Last date

Ghost of you - coming soon!

Heroes Of Olympus:

Leo Valdez:

Headcanons - child of Aphrodite!S/O

Trials of Apollo

Lester Papadopoulos/Apollo:

It's Over, isn't It? - part one

Eternal Bonds - part two

The Arcana

Asra Alnazar:

Headcanons - Intimacy before and after

Young and Beautiful - coming soon!

You're my plague - coming soon!

Julian Devorak:

Kiss the girl - coming soon!

Avatar: the Last Airbender -> Out of the Masterlist

Aang:

That voice in his head

I have a request, if youre taking them.

Baldwin's wife sneaks into the battle in 1177 with sixteen year old Baldwin, his reaction and what not. make it your own, just thought this would be cool

King Baldwin x reader - My archangel

A/N: I absolutely LOVE this idea! I've never thought of a scenario like this before, so thank you so so much for the suggestion<3

Sorry if this took so long btw, I haven't been active lately because of school and work😔😔

As always, painting is "The Crown of Love" by John Everett Millais (it's so funny to me for no reason, it just makes me think of how Baldwin would be physically dragging you out of danger).

Summary: During the most importante battle of his life so far, the last person king Baldwin expected to see on the battlefield was his newlywed wife

Warning: war, but it's more of a background thing, mentions of injuries and a hint at misogynism

Word count: 5433

It had been decided. Jerusalem's knights and soldiers would be riding towards Saladin's army at dawn, led by their king, King Baldwin IV of Anjou. Your Baldwin.

The mere idea that tomorrow your husband would find himself fighting face to face against the most fearsome of his enemies terrified you, especially knowing that you could do nothing to protect him. He had expressly said he did not want you or his sisters anywhere near the battlefield, it was too risky. You should have waited for his return, for him to be victorious astride his steed, now lying lifeless on a black bed.

You closed your eyes, begging your mind to spare you from the projection of that macabre image in your head. But you could do nothing against these emotions, which were tearing at your mind and spirit. You could not remain still and impassive, obedient and elegant as you always were as a young princess, then as a wife and now as a queen.

No, that image of you had to slumber, if only for a while. You did not have your kingdom on your mind at that moment, only Baldwin and the overwhelming desire to be close to him.

You cursed your nature for making you a woman, for not having had the opportunity to learn the art of arms and war. You cursed your long robes that prevented you from any daring movement, and your limbs because even if they were able to move freely they would not have the strength to even wield a sword.

As Baldwin fell asleep in your arms, exhausted by the fatigue that this imminent battle was costing him, and you held him close to your heart as if to compel him eternally into your embrace, you weaved a plan in your mind. A plan not to leave him alone at dawn, to stay as close to him as possible.

Because even if it was the day God would claim your husband's soul, at least you wanted to be near him as he took his last breath.

How selfish you were, not even death would have been left for him. But then again, poets have been saying it for centuries, love is the gravest form of madness.

You woke up in an empty bed, the spectre of a kiss floating on your bare shoulder where Baldwin's lips had rested a few moments before, when he had to arouse himself to lead his army into battle. And despair pervaded you almost immediately, when when you woke up still no idea had come to your mind to stay by his side, after you had hoped that sleep would grant you a solution to your problem.

Unable to hold back tears of frustration and despair, you summoned your favourite handmaiden, your nurse, old to almost retirement but cunning as a mischievous child. You wept on her welcoming lap, clutching the fabric of her robe in your fists.

"Oh Agnes, how unfair is my fate as a woman. I am asked to stand by my husband's side all my life and yet I am denied a place beside him in these dark times. And they tear him from my arms and leave me here, alone and helpless, these monstrous Saracens!" She looked at you with sympathetic eyes, stroking the long hair that fell from your shoulders, which resembled the waves of the sea as they shook slightly from your sobs. "What can I do, Agnes? You who always have a quick tongue to give solutions to my every worry, tell me what I can do, before his horse and troops are too far away to be seen."

She, like a mother consoling a child who has injured himself while playing, took your face with one hand, inviting you to turn your gaze towards her. As she wiped the tears that streaked your cheeks with her thumb, she spoke softly to you, although her tone had a hint of her typical mischief in it: "My lady, weeping over your fate does not suit you. Instead, I propose you run. Make haste to the armoury, there you are sure to find armour left behind by some lord. Do you follow me? Well, you will simply have to put on the armour, carrying a pair of your husband's breeches underneath. And keep your helmet tightly closed, so that it cannot be seen that beneath the armour there is not a brutish knight, but a beautiful queen.

Go out of the palace through the servants' passages, and buy the horse of the first man you find. Not yours, in the royal stable they would notice his absence. And then all that remains is for you to ride, ride as fast as you can, to reach the Christian encampments as soon as possible, which by then will have been set up. Remain aloof, and reveal yourself to your husband only. And do so at night, in his tent, where no unwanted eyes can see your unexpected encounter. Is it all clear, my lady?"

You merely nodded frantically with eyes wide in wonder and relief. You practically leapt into the air, quick to grab the first slip you could find and a pair of cheap shoes that you could ruin with all your impending travels. You were about to leave the room, but stopped for a moment at the threshold, before turning back to Agnes to hold her tightly in a warm embrace.

"What would I do without you, my dear. You are even better than a guardian angel, I wouldn't be surprised if one day you left some white feathers behind!" The woman squeezed you affectionately before pushing you away playfully, urging you to get out and go and do whatever she directed. "It is the job of a nurse, to solve a child's problems in the same way as a mother. But hurry now or the battle will be over before you have even found a helmet!"

You laughed lightly as you wiped the dried tears from your cheeks, wasting no more time in rushing to get what was necessary to implement your plan. You rushed in front of the crate containing Baldwin's clothes, tossing robes and shirts in the air until you found breeches fit for a ride. You hastily donned them, then dashed down the long corridors of the palace.

Once in the armoury, you began to spin like a wheel, desperately searching with your eyes for any armour. You weren't picky, anything would have been more than enough: you'd have been fine with just a breastplate, chain mail, simple shoulder straps,… But most of all, you needed a helmet. And that you found almost immediately in your mad search. It was crudely moulded and already bore a few dents on the sides, but you paid no attention to it, it was enough to conceal your identity.

You also found a breastplate, and that was all you needed. You considered taking a sword with you too, but quickly changed your mind: it might be foolish to most, but you hoped that if an enemy found you unarmed, his honour would prevent him from challenging you to a fight.

And then, your focus on your sword quickly faded as you remembered that you still had no horse to reach the battlefield. Running awkwardly, like a child ambitiously trying on his father's far too large armour, you stepped back into the corridors, this time frantically searching with your eyes for a servant to follow towards the back exit.

It must have been a hilarious scene from an outside observer, a burly swineherd looking perplexed over his shoulder as a half-armed knight los eguiva like a tin puppet through the narrow corridors. But the scene was short-lived, for after a couple of turns you finally reached the palace exit, and emerged into the crowded streets of the city.

I had to move my helmet slightly above my eyes to better see the road around you, scanning the area for any horse. You could only see two camels, a few cows, a hen with her small flock of chicks, but no horse in sight. But just when you were about to give up hope, a mysterious force swept over you.

More than mysterious force, you were almost overwhelmed by a horse held on the bridle by a dirty, smelly man. "Out of the way, kid!" Looking at the man with wide eyes, taking good care to make sure your helmet covered your features well, you strained to speak in the most naturally deep voice you could muster, attempting to fool the yokel into mistaking you for a mere boy.

"Sir how much… how much are you asking for your horse?" He laughed, opening his mouth wide and exposing his few remaining teeth, yellow and frayed, and looked at you with a look of paucity and mockery, "You're going off to war without even a horse? The Saracens will impale you like a spit, son. Not that the battle would do you any good either way, with the child king we have, they will all be wiped out. before they even reach those bloody Arabs!”

You clenched your jaw so tightly that you thought your teeth might blow out from the pressure, so hard were you trying to suppress your anger at that disrespectful commoner. Breathing slowly, trying to calm your nerves, you spoke in stiff, icy words, "30 shillings. And you leave me the saddle" The man's eyes widened, incredulous at how much a young man was willing to pay for his old, shabby horse. But he wasn't complaining at all; in fact, better for him if the thirst for war drove the youth of today to such lengths. If only he had known that it was not the bloodlust of a daring young man that was before him, but instead the affectionate madness of a desperate wife.

He did not even answer, stretched out his open hand in front of him where a moment later a bag full of coins fell. He opened it for good measure, making sure the hefty sum was true. When he was satisfied, he slowly handed you the bridle, dazed by the small fortune he was holding.

You hoisted yourself awkwardly onto the horse, and it was not a quick operation as it seemed almost impossible for you not to fall off the horse, so much was the armor restricting your every move and weighing you down. After a few minutes of tribulation, you finally steadied yourself in the saddle and with a firm gesture of your leg, spurred the steed, which galloped off in an instant.

At a gallop, the city didn't seem nearly so big. Nor did the streets seem so crowded, perhaps because the people spread out like the sea in front of Moses as you passed, trying to escape the unpleasant fate of being swept away by the running horse and its mysterious rider. You felt as if you were sailing through the waves of the sea, with people's heads bobbing up and down, a current of movement pushing you closer and closer to the city gates. No one paid much attention to you as you crossed the threshold into the kingdom of heaven, most just thought you were a careless rider who had fallen behind, perhaps this was your first battle. Whatever your problem was, it was not about the wall guards. And so your figure disappeared from the sight of the remaining citizens in the city, vanishing into the vastness of the endless desert.

You did not know quite how long you rode, how many hours it took you before you began to locate even the slightest trace of the passage of the army of Jerusalem. At first it was only small details, marks left on the ground, mainly trinkets possibly dropped to the soldiers during the ride. Then the signs of their passage became more prominent, when around a small oasis you even found a few abandoned spears, probably forgotten back by some careless soldier.

And you stopped there for only a moment, as thirst would have prevented you from going any further. As you drank from the body of water, your mind travelled in thought to your husband; who knows if he too drank from this spring? And if so, how long has it been? Will he be far from here? What would he say when he saw you retracing the passage he and his troops were tracing? At that last thought a shiver ran down your spine, most likely he would not be very happy to know you were so close to danger. You shook your head, trying to rid yourself of the image of the look that Baudouin would give you if he saw you at that moment, alone, barely armed in the vast and merciless desert, with no escort to protect you…

You only hoped that the surprise and joy of seeing you at such a tragic moment might cloud his mind from any concern he might have for you. In the meantime you had quenched your thirst enough. Regaining the reins of your horse, and after a series of ministrations to remount the saddle, you resumed your ride towards the battle with the unknown outcome.

As you rode with the wind blowing in your face, with nothing to entertain or distract you, your mind could not but return again to Baldwin. You could not help it, for fear for his fate had been tearing at your soul for days without respite, ever since it was announced that a battle would take place.

Baldwin was too young for all this. He was barely of marriageable age, he could barely reign without a regent at his side, he was hardly considered more than a child, many nobles even refused to call him an adult! And then there was his illness, which although not yet crippling, had already begun to expand its deadly effect on his body, numbing his nerves and making it impossible for him to wield his right hand properly. It was really unfair, that a man in his condition should lead an army to what everyone considered certain death.

Death at the hands of the Saracens, who were rumoured to be as many as ten times the number of the army of Jerusalem. A sob escaped from your mouth, followed by a faint stream of tears that ran down your cheeks, but they were short-lived on your face, the dry desert wind dried them in no time.

Only an instant seemed to pass, time to bring a hand to his face to wipe away the dried saline tears. Yet when your gaze focused again on the landscape in front, you saw a few hundred metres away a series of white tents, a few faint rows of smoke rising in the air, a massive cross set with precious gems, leaning against a rough wooden construction. It was the camp of the Jerusalem army.

Getting off your horse, you advanced hesitantly through the camp. Looking around, you noticed the stunned gazes of soldiers and horsemen watching you, some intrigued by your unkempt armor, some confused by your clumsy way of moving. But although the attention of their gazes made you stop breathing, fearing that you had been discovered, but fortunately it was short-lived, all the men were too tired from the exertions of the journey to investigate even this oddity. Taking you for an inexperienced little boy, they looked away from you and proceeded to drag their aching limbs back to their respective tents.

But although no one gave you more than the attention you give any stranger on the street, your heart would not stop beating furiously in its cage. You quivered at the mere thought of seeing your husband again, who although he had recently separated from you, already felt as if you had not seen him for an eternity. And your soul screamed at the idea that this might be the last time you would see him alive, and urged your legs to move faster. From hesitant strides, your gait grew brisk, impatient, and faster and faster until you burst into a frantic run through the expanse of white tents.

You scanned one, two, ten, a hundred, so many that by now they seemed to you an endless bundle of the same white cloth. But although your hope gave no sign of existing from your mission, your legs were beginning to give out under the constant strain you had subjected your body to for endless hours. You had no choice but to stop to catch your breath, resting your hands on your trembling thighs as you gasped for breath. And it was in that very instant, while you neither heard nor saw anything but the roar of your heart echoing in your ears and the rough ground flattened by the heavy footsteps of the soldiers, dark because of the blurred evening light, that you heard it. That voice.

"We will discuss this tomorrow, now I need the rest" "Certainly, my lord." The dialogue was followed by a knight of high lineage who came out of the tent in front of which you had pulled up to rest. He did not even dignify you with a glance, and you could not care less, for it was not him you were interested in. He was the first man to speak who had captured your complete attention, making the whole world fade away around you. It was a jovial voice, full of life despite obvious tiredness. It was a boy's voice. It was Baldwin's voice.

You sidled up to the curtain of the tent and, before opening your mouth, breathed slowly, tending not only to ease your nerves but also to modulate your voice to make it more masculine, deeper. The deception was to be revealed only when you were alone in the tent, away from prying eyes.

"My king, I know you are now bereft of strength, but grant me a brief interview with your majesty." You could visualize him rolling his eyes, puffing silently and running his good hand over his eyes, as he was always wont to do when any courtier demanded his attention while he was already lying in your arms. And as whenever this familiar event took place, similarly Baldwin made an effort in this case to stand up and mutter a reply, unaware that the subject behind the cloth was not just any boy, but his beloved wife. "I'm afraid I'm in no condition for a meeting at the moment. We will discuss whatever you need tomorrow." Panic grew in you hearing him so indisposed. After all, you should have expected it; he had more to think about than granting an interview to an anonymous soldier. In an instant, however, you changed your strategy, if you couldn't convince him you would have to bait him, "Please, sir, give me a few minutes! I bring with me a great surprise, a gift that I know will fill your heart with joy and restore your energy!"

He paused, as if weighing his options. At least that was what you thought, but in truth Baldwin was wondering if he was going crazy. If he had only dreamed, due to exhaustion and fatigue, that the voice speaking to him from outside the tent was not any young man's, but a disguise meant to hide the angelic melodic voice of his beloved wife. Were it really her, Baldwin would not have wasted a moment in throwing open the door for her, taking her into his arms and carrying her to his momentary abode, where her presence alone could be savored by him.

But he knew it could not be possible: you, his beloved wife whose image constantly pervaded his mind, were thousands and thousands of feet away, safe within the walls of your palace, as you had promised him. It was just not possible that you were the one hiding outside the tent, his hopes were just a cruel game of his mind. But by now his attention had been caught by the stranger so eager to talk to the king, to give him this phantom gift. Perhaps there would have been cause for concern, for thought of possible deception or assault by an enemy spy, but Baldwin did not give the thought more than a second's attention, before sighing softly and turning away, gazing back at the white fabrics of the tent. "Very well, come forward then. I hope this surprise you tell me about is really that formidable."

You came close to slinging yourself into the tent, throwing yourself into Baldwin's arms in an instant, and never letting go. But you still couldn't do it; it was too risky. You merely placed a hand on the side of the fabric that closed the curtain, pulling it to go through and letting it fall back behind you. And there you stood, facing Baldwin, clad in that armor far too large for your size, your heart pounding wildly from both the fatigue of the journey and the excitement. And he slowly, with a phlegm as elegant as the waters of a stream, turned to reveal the identity of his mysterious visitor, and you had already freed your face from the tortuous confines of the helmet you had worn for endless hours.

His eyes widened, wide as never before. Perhaps for the first time in his life, Baldwin could say he was truly, truly surprised. A thousand emotions passed from his face, from astonishment, to joy, to anger, and then to sadness, and then to astonishment again. For a moment he seemed about to open his mouth, but he stopped, opting instead to run to you, putting his arms around you, holding you tight and lifting you off the ground so tight was his grip. "My affection, how can you be so foolish! This is no place for you, so far from home, close to the enemy… You promised me you would stay safe, let me go, let me protect you! How could you do something so rash, you who are always so wise? Alone through the desert, what if the enemy had met you before I got here? What would I have done if your lifeless body, tortured by the Saracens, had been brought to me?"

His voice was exhausted, worn out by weariness and emotion that blocked his throat and threatened to make hot tears fall from his white cheeks. His words were harsh and stern, but devoid of any reproach: it was his fear speaking, his fear of seeing you the next day among the stacked bodies of war victims. And as he spoke he held your arms, shook you lightly, and in the process interrupted himself to place chaste kisses on your face, as if through the touch of his lips he was trying to convince himself that you were really there, standing before him. That it was not a mere illusion, a game of his mind.

Gently, with a touch as light as the morning wind, your hands went up his chest to his beautiful face, which you lovingly cupped. "I swore before God that I would not abandon my place at your side until the breath leaves my body. I have enjoyed with you wealth, pomp, and good fortune. But what you have granted me to witness is only half of the aspects of a nuptial union. Poverty, sickness, and the misery of war are the woes that touch every human being, and which two spouses are expected to face together. So now, my king, I beseech you, do not deny me a place at your side as you fight for the honor and freedom of the Holy Land, do not deny me a duty that has been mine since you and I were joined in eternity. It is unjust what you have subjected me to, to have to watch you ride away from me, toward the worst of dangers! And how could you think I would let you go just like that, without opening my mouth? Now we are even, I have retraced the path you yourself have traced, as bereft of safety as you were bereft of my presence. And now together we face this mortal danger, which, however, will never hold a candle to the pain that distance from you brings me!"

Baldwin's eyes softened, though they had a melancholy note in them. He inhaled with shuddering breath, and his grip became softer on your body, his hands descended from his arm to your waist, always holding you as close as physically possible.

"I was always told that silence honors women. This does not suit you, for depriving you of speech robs you of the royalty that makes you my queen. I ask your forgiveness, my angel, for leaving you alone in such a dark time. But try to understand my choice, how self-centered would I have been to ask you to come with me, in the midst of the greatest danger? It was simply too much for me, my beloved, the burden on my heart, begging me to do all that was permissible to keep you safe, even if that necessitated keeping you away from me. You are too far away now for me to send you back to the palace with an escort, and my heart could not bear to part with you for even another hour. You will stay here, ruling your people as you should. But please do not do me the wrong of setting foot on that bloody battlefield tomorrow. If even God decides that tomorrow my hour has come, and I fall lifeless on the bloody ground, do not move a step, do not show any sign of weakness. Don't follow me into the afterlife, don't even think about it: I know full well that I will never have the honor of lying eternally by your side, I am not worthy of it, so don't jeopardize your precious life in the name of an eternity by my side."

You did not respond, and silence fell. Squeezing together for another moment, you broke away shortly thereafter only to move to the bed set up in his tent, not as luxurious as his usual palace bed but certainly far more comfortable than the hay bunks in which soldiers elsewhere rested. Clinging to each other, you remained silent for a few moments. Or maybe it was hours, neither of you knew. Nor did you care, knowing how much time had passed, how much more separated you from the inescapable fate that awaited you the next day. Silent tears streaked your faces, sobs and sighs filled the air of the room. Then, you took courage to open your mouth, your voice soft and melancholy, weakened by weeping. "How unfair is our fate, affection. How bitter is my soul, knowing that tomorrow I must witness such a slaughter, an open-air slaughterhouse in which you yourself may become yet another victim."

As your first response you heard a snort from your husband, who squeezed you tighter for a moment, as if to secure you beside him, engulf you in his body. His lips pressed against your temple, placing a gentle kiss there, and they remained resting there even as he began to speak, "I know, I know my angel. I too wish things were simpler, that I could retire from this world, go and live with you, away from all this chaos, all this violence. You don't know how much I would have liked to abdicate, to leave the throne to Sybilla and her husband. They would have been good rulers, if only dear William had not passed away so soon. And so we have only to live like this, my beloved. To live perpetrated by the duties and horrors that mankind is capable of, all in the name of God's affection," a pause, a look that said a thousand silent words, and then resumed, "in the name of my affection for you… Tomorrow it will be an honor for me to fight, for like the valiant Lancelot, who fought to his last breath in the name of beautiful Guinevere. I do not care if my life will be endangered, if I return wounded and maimed more than leprosy is already reducing me. No, I don't care, because at the end of the day, whether my heart still beats or not, I know that I will return to lie in your arms.

And that makes up for all the injustices I will have to face." The last words were whispered, softened by a deep affection that numbed the senses and made everything as graceful as the clouds in the sky.

More tears streamed down your rosy cheeks, but you tried to conceal them by hiding your face in the crease of Baldwin's neck. The tone grew sterner for a moment as he resumed speaking, intimating you to listen with a grip on your shoulder. "Just promise me that, in case the battle goes badly, and I am dead and defeated and my whole army with me, promise me that you will escape, as far away as you can. Find shelter at the dwellings of those who have abstained from this conflict, find asylum in churches and in any sacred place you can find. Do whatever you can in order to protect your life. Protect what has always been dearest to me, your life."

"I will, I promise." You would have liked to retort, or much less say what he wanted to hear without really thinking it. But deception did not suit you, not toward Baldwin at least. And the mere thought that that might be his last will, which made you want to throw yourself to the ground and cry every tear you had in your body, also made it impossible for you to disobey that simple request, which after all was the request that you care for your own body and soul.

Whether Baldwin had taken your word for it or not, you were not sure, it was hard to say. It didn't matter, both of you were too tired to linger talking any longer, contrary to your usual routine of endless discussions on all kinds of topics. He whispered something to you in his native tongue, and although the language was vaguely unfamiliar to you and fatigue clouded your mind, you could still discern a sweet "I love you" among the words he spoke.

The next day your awakening was similar to the day Baldwin left Jerusalem: alone in bed, the place where your husband lay still warm. Outside the men were shouting orders and the horses were pawing in irritation at the din. In the distance you could hear the cries of the Saracens approaching, and the horns of war echoing in the air. You tried to peep your head out of the tent, but a guard surprised you right in front of the entrance. "My lady, his majesty has ordered that you do not leave the tent until the battle is over." The tone was authoritative and gentle at the same time, but his spear was stretched across the opening of the tent, an admonition far more direct than his words. You obeyed, as you had promised Baldwin that same evening, and without protest you retreated back inside the small temporary dwelling.

And so you stood there, alone and unaware of what was unfolding beyond the white tent. The last sound you were able to discern was your beloved's voice inciting his men to battle, before the din of war produced such a cacophony that it was impossible to understand a single sentence spoken. They rode for a few hundred meters until they reached the place where the battle would take place. They rode so far that the din they caused as they passed became muffled, barely audible. And perhaps it was for the best, for the distance muffled the atrocious sounds of war, of slaughter.

And so you waited there, within the four fabric walls, white as snow, that you feared at every moment might be stained with blood, friend or foe. You waited for the outcome of the battle, dumb with fear, with tension. You awaited Baldwin's return, dead or alive, victorious or defeated. And you did so by standing there, closer to him than was possible, exhausted and restless at the same time.

A/N: Yallll this was LONGGGG. i really really like how this turned out, and i hope you do too! I'm really sorry for how long it took me to write this piece, but I promise the following ones will take much much less🙏🙏🙏 Anyway, now I gotta go start working on those, feel free to leave a comment or feedback about this fic<3<3

hello could you do headcanons smut of baldwin and his chubby wife

King Baldwin x reader - Nsfw headcanons

A/N: Wow these is the first explicit stuff I write for Baldwin!! Thank you so much for this prompt, thinking of a chubby medieval woman makes me think of all the portraits of beautiful women with the most harmonious curves I've ever seen😩😩

As always painting name is Romeo and Juliet by Frank Bernard Dicksee for my art enthusiasts :))

Warning: SMUT, reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns!

Unlike modern times, a fuller body has always been sign of beauty and fertility through western history

Although during medieval times anything related to attractiveness and sensuality was deemed as "bad", that still meant that a chubby woman would've been judged not for being against the beauty standard, but to be actually too tempting for the public!

So it comes without saying that young king Baldwin thought he might pass out the first time he saw you, knowing you were his betrothed

You'd awakened something in him, this burning desire to have you, to know how your soft curves would feel in his hands, how your silky skin would brush against his own

I see him having a long series of consecutive days where he woke up drenched in sweat, body slightly trembling as he'd come out of yet another wet dream about you, lying beneath him as he had his sweet way with you

He felt himself getting more and more impatient for the wedding night day to come, to finally be able to call you his

He'd also be quite insecure at first, and scared too. What if the sight of his body repulsed you? What if you wouldn't want to go near him to avoid the risk of getting the disease as well?

He wouldn't blame you for it, it'd be the wiser decision for the both of you

But still, he prays and hopes and dreams that you'd return the attraction he felt from you from the very start. He longs for the feeling of your touch against his numb body

He's a bundle of nerves during the whole ceremony, but he's good at hiding it (well the veil covering his head is); he seems to all calm down only once you're both sitting next to each other at the banquet, and you tentatively lay your soft hand over his laying on the table, shy touches blessing his skin

That night your marriage is consumed in no time, he's basically as gentle as humanly possible while he holds you in his arms, as he's slowly penetrating you

There was no really developed knowledge of foreplay or female anatomy in the middle ages, but it just felt natural for Baldwin to keep his focus on your every reactions while the two of you are making love

He doesn't know what he's doing, and neither do you considering that at that time you probably haven't even seen a naked man other than Baldwin himself, but that doesn't stop the two of you from exploring each other, taking your time to get to know what you like, what makes your eyes roll back and your back arch

I'm not sure if he'd be down for oral, I kind of see him as being a bit self conscious of the level of decay his mouth and face has reached, and I'm not too sure his cum would actually taste good with leprosy and all

Nevertheless, his fingers and cock are more than enough to bring you more pleasure than you could ever imagine

Don't expect any public stuff, Baldwin is still an extremely religious man whose values are not to be messed with: these things are meant for the privacy of your quarters alone, there's no need for him to bring this sacred thing you two have out where all eyes could possibly see

He'd probably be more on the vanilla side, being mostly against anything related to giving pain (he'd be indifferent to receiving it since his body is mainly numb, but he wouldn't enjoy it either)

Although he would probably enjoy being the more dominant one in the bedroom, the power dynamic would still remain on a pretty balanced level: you're still his beloved wife, his only equal in his eyes. That's why I could confidently say that Baldwin is the perfect example of soft dom

His favorite position would probably be missionary, just so that he could be able to see your pretty face while he pounds into you

Also because he could get to hold your plush thighs and see the delightful rolls that form on your belly

Your body screams femininity and fertility to him, an alluring combination that gets him going for as much time as you two have

His numbness also grants him a reduced sensibility, so he can afford to go more rounds at a time without having too many problems from it

But as the years pass, his mobility becomes more restricted by his declining health, and along with his agility and stamina in battle his sickness gets the best of him even in the bedroom

And through it all, his burning desire for you was what got him going, what made him spare just a little more energies to later spend with you

The two of you would have to adapt, though, probably changing positions and frequency at which you guys have sex

You might start trying to be the one on top, and he'd guide your every movement while also trying not to lose his mind over just how perfect you look riding him, your every curve bouncing as you move up and down over his cock

He dreams of giving you a baby in those moments, filling you up to the brim, seeing your body get even fuller with your conjoint love. It really saddens him to think that it might never happen

But hope is the last one to die, and he gets his hopes up every time that he comes into your welcoming body, emptying his seed into you, hoping that one day this union will give life to a creature as beautiful as its mother

What do you think Baldwins fashion sense would be In modern times ?

Ohhh this is an interesting one!

Okay so, it took me a bit to think about it but I'm pretty confident on some points.

First of all, modesty. Not to cover up his body from leprosy, we have the medicine to cure that now so no prob, but his religious nature would probably physically restrain him from even getting close to "immodest" clothing, and by that I mean going around shirtless or lowering his pants to the point where you can see his mf underwear.

I see him as someone who likes to dress simple, not too many meaningless details and accessories, he'd probably fit best in the Dark Academia/old money style.

I'm debating on whether he'd wear a little silver cross necklace, part of me thinks that he actually wouldn't, he might rather keep his religiousness for himself rather than flaunting it around. Hence why he isn't really a fan of those pants with huge crosses, too over the top for him, it loses meaning.

I'm also leaving a few pics of what I think would best represent his style.

Baldwin in his summer era. Although I think he'd also wear shorts if it got too hot, but I haven't found a fit that quite represented my idea

This pic has me weak on my knees because I imagine Baldwin EXACTLY like this. Like, the hair, the strong handsome features,...

AAAAGHHH I'm on my knees for this man.

A look more winter-y. If I had to use a word to describe his style I'd probably simply say "class", because that's exactly what he's all about!